


After Midnight

by notSuperboi



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Crimelord Frank Iero, Crimelords, GTA style au, Lots of blood and violence be warned, breadbin has problems involving asshole men, crimelord Pete Wentz, dont underestimate smol children, original character but nothing big, stripper Brendon and Patrick, these boiz have SKILLS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notSuperboi/pseuds/notSuperboi
Summary: Pete had a set schedule. It was strict and good, grand even. He had finished off many heists before, taken on plenty of rival crews and gangs. But these new dicks in Los Santos decide that they can fuck him up so easily? Not gonna sit well with Pete.Until they royally kick his ass multiple times and yeah, he might need some reinforcements if he's going to beat the shit out of these cocky bastards. Except, it's not as easy as he thinks.It never is.





	1. Maybe You Shouldn't Be So Extra With Your Gun Choices, Pete

**Author's Note:**

> It begins

Pete was totally fine with just sitting back and kicking it with his partner in the million dollar pent house. He was more than fine, actually he was pretty darn great. That is, until he's not.  
Frank was doing a line off of the coffee table, Gerard wrapped around him. Pete had his feet propped up on the same surface and a glass of expensive wine in his hand. He was taking slow slips, occasionally twirling the multiple rings on his fingers. He sighed, reaching over and grabbing the remote to the stereo and turning up the music, blaring rock through the speakers.  
He groaned when the familiar sound of someone trying to buzz into his apartment rang through is ears. He gave Frank a look, because no one else would even fucking dare to ring up to his apartment unless Pete himself personally invited them and Pete doesn't remember doing so to anyone. Frank pulled away from Gerard, who was kissing up the tattooed man's jawline, and sighed, grabbing his matte black pistol from where it was thrown on the ground in the hastiness of Gerard wanting attention.  
The buzzing was persistent and Pete growled, lighting a cigarette between his lips. He took a long drag and fixed his suit, grabbing his golden, chrome gun from the table on his way to the door. Frank followed closely behind him and Pete took the cigarette out of his mouth, passing it to his friend to take a drag from. He let frank keep it as he held down the button, his underused voice sounded foreign to his ears.

"You better stop ringing the fucking buzzer and state your name before I come down there personally and slit your god damn throat."

"Uh, p-please don't, Mr. Wentz..."

Pete rubbed his temples, frustrated, "for fuck's sake...Jimmy, what the actual fuck are you doing? You know better than to come here uninvited."

There was a pause, "yes, I know sir, it's just something that happened and I think you need to hear about it right away."

Pete looked at Frank and he knew that the man understood what was going on. If Jimmy couldn't state it on the buzzer, then he was afraid of prying eyes.

"Fine, I'll send you up, be quick or I'll go back to the slitting your throat promise."

"Y-yes, sir!"

Pete let go of the button and buzzed jimmy in, waiting for him to come to the door. He turned to Frank and the man took the cigarette from his lips, handing it back to Pete. Pete sighed and took a long drag, puffing smoke out through his nose. He flicked away ash and glanced in the direction of the living room where Gerard was situated.

"You gonna take care of that?"

Frank shook his head, dragging his tattooed hands through his hair, "nah, I like showing him off."

Pete smiled at Frank's sly smirk and put out the cigarette in the potted plant's soil next to the door. He cracked his knuckles and holstered his gun, watching as Frank did the same.

"This is obviously important."

A hum from his partner, "what has him so shaken up? I know he's a fucking idiot but he's anything but a wimp."

"Exactly. He was afraid of someone overhearing him when he buzzed in, that's why he came here and didn't call and refused to say anything over the line."

"So it's serious?"

Pete snorted, "oh, definitely."

A soft knock was heard from the door and Pete yanked it open, crossing his arms at Jimmy.

"Well?" He raised a brow, "you gonna come in or what?"

Jimmy shuffled inside and Frank closed the door. Pete headed in the direction of the kitchen, making sure his cohort followed. He waited until Jimmy slid up on a barstool and nervously fiddled with his thumbs. Pete smiled and walked behind the counter, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured one for himself and drank it all in one gulp, relishing in the burning sensation in his throat. He passed the other to his coworker and tapped his fingers on the counter.  
Frank came back in the room moments later with Gerard firmly attached to his hip. He smiled and poured a glass for Frank, reaching down in the cupboard to get a bottle of rum, mixing it with coke for Gerard. 

"So," he turned to Jimmy, "why do you insist on bothering me?"

Jimmy looked up hesitantly and Pete leaned across the counter on his elbows, "um, w-well I-you see-"

Pete glared, "spit it out."

Jimmy gulped and Frank smiled, "c'mon Jimbo, it can't be that bad? Plus, if it is, we can always rip out your tongue."

Jimmy swallowed audibly and looked down, sweat forming on his brow, "they raided us, took out half of the men in the Far East warehouse. They were so fast...W-we didn't even see them coming."

Pete growled, "who?!"

"I-I don't know sir! They were masked and they targeted us with precision! I've never seen anything like that...b-but they did tell us one thing..."

Frank glanced up, "what?"

"I don't know if I should-"

Pete slammed his hands down on the counter so hard that even Gerard jumped, "god fucking damn it, Jimmy! You work for me and you're gonna fucking tell me right now or so help me God I will grab my machete and go to town on your dumb fucking face!"

Jimmy was practically shaking and he seemed to sink into the barstool, "they said that they were here to take down your empire...that they were the kings and queens of this town...their leader said that her name was Ace. Whatever that means."

Pete furrowed his brows, "sounds like some rival card-obsessed gang. I'll have it taken care of. You can leave now Jimmy."

The man seemed mildly alarmed, "no! I don't think you understand! Ace and her crew are designed to take down and destroy the most notorious crime bosses. They'll have your heads on a sliver fucking platter in no time!"

Frank scoffed, "is that so Jimbo? Didn't know you had such little faith in us...maybe we should send you as bait to scope out their hiding place?"

"N-no, please! You just can't defeat them! They're infamous!"

Pete clenched his fist and walked around the counter, holding open the front door, "it's time for you to leave, we'll look into their crew and see what we need to bring them down hm? As for now, you just keep your head low and hold onto that drug cartel or I'm taking a finger as a souvenir."

Jimmy hurried off his chair, scurrying out the door, he paused and turned around, gaining Pete's attention, "look them up and see how horrible they truly are...be careful Mr. Wentz, they're cunning and ruthless and dangerous."

Pete flashed him a menacing grin, "so are we."

 

_____________________________________________

 

Immediately after Jimmy had left Pete had Frank leave with Gee to go and count numbers and Pete had gone into his room, calling the networking professionals. Technically, they were a huge Best Buy but their fucking boss was Ray Toro, one of the most notorious hackers in the nation. Frank had told Pete that this guy could get any job done for them, sadly though, after working with them for a while the man retired and set up a business. He now housed around fifteen elite hackers-hunters is what the crime business called them-and Pete currently needed one.  
The phone rang a couple times before Ray picked up and Pete straightened his tie, talking business.

"Pete, what's up?"

A sigh, "I need one fast, apparently I have a threat to my aspects and one of my dogs seems frightened by them. Told me to look them up."

Ray hummed through the line and Pete heard the faint sound of doors opening and closing, "looking for anybody in particular?"

Pete looked into his full length mirror and scratched the stubble on his chin, "just someone who can get the job done and work efficiently."

The sound of video game screams and guns came through the phone and Pete pulled it away from his ear, waiting. Eventually, the onslaught of button jamming noises grew faint and Pete listened to the sound of two voices softly talking to each other and gentle typing.

"I have just the guys."

Pete raised a brow at himself in the mirror, "guys?"

"Yeah, Tyler and Josh. I mean, you could ask for one of them but the other will always tag along, they're a pair. You get one and you get the other. Simple enough?"

Pete nodded even though Ray couldn't see him, "what are their stats?"

"I know I may be flattering them but seriously, these guys may just be better than me, which is saying something. They're wanted by every gang but Tyler hasn't been taking many jobs lately...I think something went wrong on the last one...anyways, all he asks is that he stays inside and out of the line of fire. Josh however doesn't care."

"Continue."

Ray groaned, "they work quickly and efficiently, faster than me, and can track anyone you want them to. They can retrace their steps and erase them faster than anything I've ever seen. Give these guys a shot."

Pete hummed, "alright, I'll pay after the gig is done. I just need them to find some shit on a gang for me."

Ray did a small cheer through the phone and a small argument broke out that Pete couldn't hear very well. Ray's voice finally rang out clearly, "I'll call you back."

Pete growled, "you have an hour."

Ray hung up and Pete stood there, phone clenched in his hand. He walked out of his room and into the living room, deciding to at least research the gang before he did anything. He googled 'Ace card gang' and immediately clicked on the first result that said 'House Of Cards, ruthless and notorious gang.'

Pete raised a brow, "we'll see about that..."

More results on how the gang could singlehandedly take down crime boss after crime boss, even the more well known ones, popped up and he read through them. Usually they were there to take down cities, prove how well known and dangerous they are. Sometimes though, they acted as mercs, told to take down a gang for money only to betray both gangs, taking twice as much as they were told. Other times, they did take down the gang and did as told, only to make allies with bigger gangs. Pete suddenly felt anxious.

He didn't even realize that an hour had passed until his phone rang out loudly in the quiet of his penthouse and he startled, reaching for it and pressing answer.

"Hello."

"Hey, Pete...they'll take the job but if you want them to do anything else it's gonna be extra, is that chill?"

Pete hummed, "yeah, tell them to-"

Ray's voice interrupted him, "they only work in person."

Raising a brow, Pete responded, "okay? Then tell them my address and to be here immediately."

There was a muffled conversation before Ray spoke up again, "they'll be there soon. And don't scare them off, okay? You can be a bit of a dick sometimes."

Pete snorted, "fuck off," and promptly hung up.

_____________________________________________

Tyler was typing out a very steamy and angry review to the store that sold him his Zelda game for his d.s. He was not happy at all for the way it showed up to his apartment, like what the fuck? The thing was almost in half, that's how bad of a condition it had. Josh was next to him, casually sprawled out on a beanbag chair in their office in the back room of the Best Buy.  
Their area they had set up for them had two desks with multiple monitors and yoga balls to sit on. The room was black but was lit up with black lights and psychedelic posters adorned the walls along with a large flat screen tv. Multiple gadgets and video games were strewn around the room and two bean bag chairs were situated in the corner. It looked messy, but more of an aesthetic than anything. Tyler huffed and angrily grabbed his phone to text Josh and hit send.

Next to him, Josh's phone dinged and he huffed, "Tyler, I'm literally right here."

Tyler glared at his friend, "I'm hungry."

Josh glanced up from his phone where he was, most likely, playing candy crush and smiled slyly, "hi hungry...I'm Josh."

Tyler groaned and threw his computer mouse at his best friend, hitting him on the shoulder, "ow! What was that for?"

"You know what it was for."

Josh rolled his eyes but smiled fondly, "alright, where do you want to eat?"

Tyler smiled and looked at Josh. They answered at the same time, both with light tones, "Taco Bell."

Josh made a move to get up and Tyler went back to his computer to finish typing his hate mail, "you're paying, I paid last time."

Josh huffed, "yeah, yeah."

Tyler was busy hitting send when the door to their office opened and Ray came in, talking into his personal phone. Tyler raised a brow and shared a look with Josh, usually when Ray was talking with a client it was on his burn phone.

He was just finishing up what he was saying, "...give these guys a shot."

Tyler strained his ears to be able to hear what the person on the other line was saying but failed. He startled when Ray cheered a little and held the phone away from his ear, hand plugging the speaker.

"I have a job for you two-"

Tyler's eyes widened and Josh immediately turned Ray down, "no."

Ray glared at them and huffed, leaning back into the speaker, "I'll call you back."

Ray hung up the phone and shoved it into his front pocket, a glare set on his usually neutral face.

"Seriously?"

Tyler furrowed his brows, "what?"

Ray stalked closer, "this guy is one of my closest friends, if I can trust him then so can you."

"You've said that before on other occasions and some have your 'friends' have still treated us like shit before. We'll pass," Tyler turned to Josh, "you got the car keys? 'Cause I'm starved."

Josh nodded, "yep."

Ray stood in front of Josh, blocking his way out, "hold up. Pete doesn't want anything out of you other than your expertise, okay? He even said that there's no line of fire, just wants you two to look into something for him, find some dirt on another gang or something."

Tyler rolled his eyes, "yeah, they always say that there's no line of fire."

Ray looked actually angry for a second which startled Tyler because Ray is usually so calm. Then, he seemed to deflate a little and went back to normal with a defeated sigh, "look, I don't know what happened to you, Tyler...after the last job...but I can say that I put all of my trust in my friend and I know he wouldn't do anything particularly bad to you. Even for being a fucking crime lord, he's a sappy bitch."

Tyler looked at Josh and they shared a mutual glance and then Tyler nodded, "we have conditions."

Ray looked at them skeptically, "is that a yes?"

Tyler ignored him and continued on, "we work in person, I don't need to be tricked and come out of it with no money. No conflict, that shit is bad publicity, especially if I have to go against another gang...I can't do that. We work in a pair, get both or none. No line of fire of coarse, Josh doesn't care and finally," Tyler smirked devilishly, "you have to buy us Taco Bell."

Ray rolled his eyes, "but is that a yes?"

Tyler nodded and Josh smiled, followed by Ray, "great! I'll call him back and," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty, "that should be enough to cover your food."

Before Ray left the room he turned around and said, "oh, and he wants you two to be over there as soon as you can...I'll send you the address after he inevitably says yes."

Tyler stretched and winced at the popping in his spine, Josh answered for both of them, "sounds good."

The door clicked close behind their boss.

_____________________________________________

Tyler was looking through different profiles on his phone when Josh appeared next to him.

"You ready to go?"

Tyler looked up, bag slung over his shoulder and Taco Bell cup in hand, "let's get this show on the road."

Josh smiled and pressed one of the many buttons on the panel, buzzing them in. Tyler's eyes skimmed over the description of Pete Wentz. He wasn't stupid, he knew about the notorious Crime Lord, he just always knows how to do his research before they perform a job. He needs to know weaknesses and tactile points, things that will ensure his life.

A gruff voice spoke through the buzzing, "come in."

The doors clicked open and Tyler followed Josh into the building, heading straight for the elevators. Once inside, Josh hit the floor labeled 17 and Tyler raised his brows, going back to his phone. The doors opened and Tyler stepped out first, looking at each door for the correct number. He reached 1712 and knocked, Josh by his side.  
The door opened and Tyler was immediately greeted by a tattooed man with black hair, slicked back and cut in a sort of super villain style. He had scruff on his face with a sly smile on his lips.

"Come in."

Tyler turned to Josh and shared a look. Josh stepped forward first and Tyler followed the red haired man inside.

"So what exactly are we here for?"

Josh sat down on the couch, pulling multiple things out of his duffle bag and making a grabby hands gesture at Tyler. Tyler shrugged off his bag and handed it to his friend, watching as he pulled out both laptops and started connecting their other equipment to them.

"I need you to find crucial information including the whereabouts of the Ace Card Gang."

Tyler almost spit out the soda in his mouth and had to set down his Taco Bell cup. Josh's fingers paused in their typing and he looked up at Pete.

"You're kidding. We can do information, but definitely not their location."

Pete crossed his arms, "the reason?"

Tyler sat down next to Josh and grabbed the tablet, coding it into an encrypted mode. He immediately surfaced into the deep web.

"That gang knows how to cover their tracks better than a hunter after an escaped bear. Look,"

Pete squinted his eyes at Tyler.

"We'll try and get as much shit as we can on them. Sightings, weak points-"

Josh interjected, "if there even are any."

"-we'll get it. But if we do find a location, chances are that they're long gone by now. They're always at least three steps ahead. For all we know, they could be on the other side of the country by now."

Pete huffed, "no, they won't be."

 

Tyler paused in his work, looking up at his employer, "so she's after you. It'd be best just to run, you're only chance that you have by now."

Pete scoffed and turned, going to exit the living room, "see, that's where me and the other crime lords are different, they run and I fight. Simple as that. I got shit to uphold and I'm not backing out now. Not until I breathe my final breath. Even then, I won't stop."

Tyler furrowed his brows and watched the man leave the room. He bit his lip and looked over at Josh who was staring right at him, "he's different."

Tyler snorted and cracked his knuckles, "different is bad Jish."

Josh hummed, "he won't stand a chance."

"Oh no, definitely not."

...

"I can still hear both of you."

Tyler started typing faster.


	2. Ryan Ross is bitchin, Ryan Ross is a bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay soooo I'm in California at the moment so the Ghost Adventures series is delayed until next week and this one is late! I'm so sorry! Without further ado, here's another piece of my mind.

Pete carded his fingers through his hair and growled. Tyler and Josh had long since left, and Pete had given them four hundred for their 'compensations.' Now, he was angrily sifting through the files they had given him, frustration building as he realized nothing was helpful enough to take the other gang down. He threw the files across the room and scoffed.  
There was a loud and persistent knocking coming from his front door and he marched across the room, throwing it open.   
"For fuck's sake."

Frank stood in front of him, an eyebrow perfectly arched. Despite his calm appearance, Pete immediately knew something was wrong.

"What happened?"

It was then that he noticed Gerard wasn't there, "Where's Gee?"

Frank stepped in and rolled his eyes, "he's fine, back at the other house..."

Pete followed his partner into the living room, watching as he sat down and crossed his legs, "what happened Iero?"

Frank looked mildly surprised at the bite in Pete's tone, "most of our crew has been taken out...we lost two warehouses."

Pete clenched his jaw and slammed his fist on the glass table, the glass shattered under the blow. Blood trickled from his hand but he ignored it, tearing off a piece of his shirt and wrapping it around his fist. He got up and marched into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He titled back the cup and gulped it down, glaring at Frank.

"How the fuck do we get it back?"

Frank shrugged, but he looked worried, "we don't. They'll fuck us up so bad Pete, you don't even know."

Pete ran his fingers through his hair, throwing the glass cup at the wall. Frank stayed composed, "have we given up?"

Pete reared back with a scowl. That was just insulting.

"Are you fucking kidding me? No! Of fucking coarse not, Frank."

Frank sucked in a breath through his teeth, "okay then, explain to me exactly how we're gonna take them down? Because it's physically impossible. Not even Ray's best hackers could track them, what do you think we're doing?!"

Pete pressed the palm of his hands into his eyes and groaned, "I don't know! We need fucking reinforcements!"

Frank huffed, "they took out our reinforcements. Even then, we wouldn't have been able to stop them, we can't attack if we don't know for sure who they even are or where they even are!"

Pete sat down heavily on a barstool, "then we'll be two steps ahead of them. Usually the other crews have give up by now, right? So if they think we're giving up then we have time to be ahead."

Frank scrunched up his nose, "I don't think that's how-"

Pete stood up and grabbed his phone, "call Ray and ask for Tyler and Josh, tell them I need another job and that the take will be ten times more."

Pete threw on a coat and hastily walked over to the door, brushing off his black shirt. 

Frank called out, "where are you going?"

"I wasn't kidding when I said I needed reinforcements. I'm just gonna get better ones this time."

The door slammed shut behind him and Frank groaned.

_____________________________________________

Pete basically broke every traffic law on the way to the other side of town. It's actually really fucking weird how no cop even tried to pull him over. He scoffed and pressed harder on the gas, weaving in between cars. He smirked and slowed down, turning right on Vinewood.  
As his car raced up the mountain he saw multiple million dollar houses and made a turn into a dark colored, large driveway. Wasting no time, Pete threw open the car door and walked briskly to the front door, hand on the knob.   
The door flew open and he was met with the sight of Spencer Smith pointing a gun at his head. 

Pete raised his hands and smirked, "woah! Woah, just me."

Spencer sighed in relief and holstered his gun, stepping aside and letting Pete in, "why are you here?"

"I have my reasons."

Pete walked down the stairs and into the living room, watching as Spencer followed him, "so, why did you have a gun pointed at my face? Someone after you?"

Spencer sighed and sat down heavily on his couch, "something like that."

Pete hummed and fiddled with his rings. He leaned forward and looked his friend in the eye, "I have a proposition for you."

Spencer raised a brow, "oh really?"

Pete smirked, "there's this gang after me...already took out more than half of my crew and I need reinforcements. Take will be more than enough...what'd ya say?"

Spencer furrowed his brows, "so my probability of death is really high?"

Pete shrugged, "more or less...yeah."

Spencer stood up and cracked his spine, "okay, I'm in."

Pete smiled, "knew you would be. Let me-"

Spencer's phone blared obnoxiously at him from the kitchen and Pete watched as his friend rolled his eyes and walked over to it, pressing the answer button.

"Spencer Smith."

Pete couldn't hear the other person on the line.

"For fuck's sake, again?...alright tell him I'll be right there."

Spencer hung up and gave Pete a look. Pete raised a brow, "leaving so soon?"

Spencer sighed and nodded, "fucking Ross, always doing stupid shit. I need to pick him up and take him back to the Strip Club down near Innocence Boulevard. You coming? It'll be trouble..."

Pete took out his gun and smiled, "fuck yeah, but we're bringing my car, it's an armored vehicle."

Rolling his eyes Spencer trudged up the stairs, "whatever you say Boss."

Pete cringed, "don't ever call me that again."

_____________________________________________

Pete's car rumbled onto Los Santos Freeway, flying passed other cars. The tinted windows let him pass other cars without them knowing who he was, which he was grateful for. He didn't know any of the rival crew's identities, they could be anywhere.  
He made a sharp left and turned down an alley near an Ammunation, pulling up to the store and getting out. Spencer followed him and he pulled out his gun, briskly walking over to the alleyway.  
He was greeted by the sight of Ryan Ross being held up against a door, drunk and getting beaten up. Rolling his eyes, Pete fired his gun once and watched as the man who attacked Ryan slumped to the ground, blood trickling from the bullet wound in his head. Pete smiled, forever grateful for his silencer as a police cruiser rolled around the corner.  
Three more heavyset men trudged out of a back door to a club and into the alley, angrily glaring at them once they saw their cohort's dead body.

"Take cover!"

Pete ducked behind the wall and Spencer slid over behind a dumpster. Pete leaned around his cover area and fired two shots into the side of one of the guy's head. He reloaded his pistol and went back to aim, growling as one of the men grabbed Ryan and started running.

"Get the other guys! I got Ross!"

Pete ran passed the alleyway and behind the Ammunation. He hastily rounded the corner and spotted the guy manhandling a struggling Ryan into a van. Pete growled and aimed, shooting the man in the forehead.

Pete started sprinting to Ryan, tugging him away from the commotion. He ran through the alley just as more guys started coming through the doors. Spencer was right on his heels and Pete threw open the backseat, throwing Ryan inside. He slid across the hood of his car and started up the engine, the beautiful sports car purring to life. Spencer jumped inside and Pete pulled away, the car going from zero to one hundred fast. He weaved in between cars and cringed as Spencer shot out the window - glass everywhere -leaning outside and shooting the tires of the cars behind them.  
He made a sharp turn and Spencer groaned, firing more shots at the cars. Pete turned onto the freeway and swerved onto the left side of the road, avoiding incoming cars. He floored the pedal and rammed into the wall, car flying off the bridge and down bellow onto the road.  
He jerked forward and smiled as Ryan groaned in pain from the back. He maneuvered the car into a small area next to the trains and railroads, waiting. When deemed safe, he pulled out, sighing in relief as no bad guys were in sight. He then glared hard at the broken window and sneered at Ryan.

"What the actual fuck were you doing?!?!"

Ryan grunted in pain and pulled his - most likely really expensive - jacket closer to himself, " Brendon came to me earlier today and told me what those disgusting assholes did to him. They should know better than to touch my property, especially with what happened last time."

The last time one of the Pimp's favorites  
was treated badly Ryan went on a bloodthirsty hunt. Usually no one touches or deliberately hurts them anymore. Something must have changed.

"Still," Spencer spoke up, "don't go picking fights you can't handle, especially when drunk."

Ryan groaned and scoffed, Pete pressed a little harder on the gas, "oh please, I could've taken them...just had too much is all..."

"You always have too much. This is why Brendon doesn't trust you anymore."

Ryan snarled and reached forward, "what the fuck did you just say?"

Pete turned onto Innocence Boulevard, "both of you shut the fuck up right now. We're here."

He slammed on the brakes and smiled to himself as Ryan was thrown into the front seat, landing hard on the floor. Pete turned off the ignition and flung out the door, straightening his jacket. He turned and saw Spencer haul Ryan out of the back and close the door, grunting underneath the weight.  
Pete walked ahead of them and Spencer fished out Ryan's keys to the back door of the strip club, opening the door with practiced grace. They were immediately greeted by the sight of male and female strippers alike dressing for their stage time. Pete whistled low and watched as Ryan staggered over to a door near a large mirror.  
The drunk man leaned on the door and opened it, stumbling inside. Pete followed him inside the small office and grunted as Ryan slumped into a chair.

"You know," Spencer began, "I'm gonna stop answering your calls and pleas for me to come get you."

Ryan snorted, "oh please, you would never."

Spencer cracked his knuckles, "with the way you've been acting? Yeah,I'm starting to think I would."

Ryan gave them both a once over and then sighed, carding his fingers through his hair, "look, go to the bar and get yourselves a free drink, tell them Ross sent you. Just do me a favor and check on Brendon? He should be working counter today since yesterday's incident drove him up a wall."

Spencer scoffed, "I've done enough favors for you."

Ryan reached underneath his desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch and Advil, "oh please, Brendon only really trusts you anyways."

"never again Ross."

Spencer opened the door to leave and Pete decided to speak up, "you know, you're a bit of a dick nowadays."

Pete turned and followed Spencer out, but he still heard Ryan's next words.

"Yeah, that's cuz back in the day you were in charge of us...look where that got me..."

Pete froze, glaring hard at the doorknob. He scowled at Ryan, pushing back resurfacing memories and escaping the small office. He scurried out of the dressing rooms and towards the front. Just as Spencer was about to leave, Pete sighed heavily and flopped on a barstool.

"I'm thinking of taking up that offer of a free drink."

Spencer rolled his eyes and sat next to him, placing his gun on the bar, "yeah okay, I was gonna check up on Bren anyways."

Pete furrowed his brows, "who even is this Brendon guy?"

Spencer downed his drink and wiped his mouth, "you'll see."

Pete furrowed his brows as Spencer leaned in over the bar and grabbed the man tending to it by the collar, "would you be so kind as to get Brendon Urie for me?"

The man visibly shook and nodded furiously, disappearing behind the bar.

"You know him? Brendon that is." Pete asked.

Spencer nodded, "Me and Brendon have been friends for years. Longer than I've known you."

Pete hummed and took a sip of his drink, "how come I've never heard of him?"

Spencer sent Pete a smirk, "he likes to keep his head down. And he's a stripper, not important to what we do."

Pete could object to that. Instead he nodded along to his friend's words and stalled as the bartender came back with a fluffy brown haired boy, no older than 21. He had a worn band shirt on and black skinny jeans, holes in the knees.

"What Spencer? If Ryan wants me tell him that it's my day off."

Spencer shook his head, "no, he just wanted me to check up on you. You doing okay?"

Brendon nodded, "yeah, I'm fine..."he looked over at Pete and raised a brow, "who's this guy?"

Spencer pushed Pete forward, "this is Pete Wentz."

Brendon cocked a hip, "oooh, famous crime lord, I like your style in friends Spence."

Brendon winked at Pete and he smiled back.

"Aren't those card assholes after you? Sorry to pry, Spence told me."

Spencer nodded and clapped Pete on the back, "yeah, he's so fucked but I'm on his crew again. Joining him for this one."

Brendon sat down on a barstool and crossed his arms, "do you want a death wish?"

Pete clenched his fist, "with this job, I've always had one."

There was a moment of comfortable silence where Spencer and Brendon seemed to be having a silent conversation. Pete didn't mind, just continued to get glass after glass of alcohol, watching the strippers dance around the poles.

"You know," Spencer's voice almost startled him, "Brendon's pretty good with a gun."

Pete raised a brow, "and?"

Brendon was quick to interrupt, "yeah no, I don't do things without my partner."

Spencer chose to ignore him, "and, he's one of the best snipers I know. He's really good you should see him. Back in the day I used to take him on heists with me. For some reason he quit."

Pete looked at Brendon expectingly and the younger only shrugged, "eh, this job earns you more...plus it's safer."

Pete watched as Spencer nudged the boy in the ribs, "he's lying to himself, he misses it I can tell."

Pete looked them both up and down, "okay, if you're as good as he says you are, then I'd like to see for myself."

Brendon glared, "no, I don't go to ranges or jobs without my partner."

Pete rolled his eyes, "so we'll bring him. What's his name?"

Brendon crossed his arms and huffed, "Patrick."

 

Spencer flagged down the bartender and ordered two Jack Daniel's, "go get him then."


	3. Not all Police Are Bad, Just Officer Brooks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, ahhhhhh! Sorry...don't kill me.
> 
>  
> 
> The Ghost Adventures will be uploaded sometime next week, this one will be updated sometime after that! Thanks for reading.

Pete was actually going to strangle Spencer. So what if he was a tad bit drunk from all those free drinks back at the strip club...he was still going to murder him. Because sober Pete would never allow a stripper who claims to be a sharp shooter on his team. It's just like logic or something, you don't do it.  
But now, he's following said stripper and Spencer - still going to strangle him - back to the fabled sharp shooter's apartment. He gave a grunt of annoyance, trudging along after both parties.

"You guys are total dicks, why didn't we just take my car?"

Spencer gave him a glare, "shut up, we're almost there."

Pete groaned and Spencer gave him a warning glance. They followed Brendon a little further down the road before he turned and a large apartment complex was in view. It was situated so that the building was raised above the ground, cars parked underneath the complex. Pete tilted his head and scoffed, it was highly unsafe. He trudged up the metal stairs and watched as Brendon fished out a key, clicking it in place and opening the door.   
Pete rolled his eyes and followed him inside. He was immediately hit by the scent of weed and cookies. Pete guessed that the weed came from Brendon because - holy shit.

That was the shortest - and yet cutest, fuck - fedora wearing adult he's ever seen. Pete inhaled deeply - leave him alone he needed to know if this was the cookie guy - and was immediately assaulted by the scent of strawberries and...coffee? It was a weird mixture but fuck it, it smells fucking good.

"Bden...you brought friends...?"

The little dude - Patrick, Pete's brain supplied - looked skeptical and yet, surprised. Pete inwardly laughed. This guy was just too cute.

"I'm Spencer and that's-"

Pete saw his chance and fucking took it, "Pete Wentz."

He grabbed Patrick's hand and shook it, flashing him a wink. The shorter looked unamused and turned back to Brendon. Out of the corner of his eye, Pete spotted Spencer looking at him bemusedly. Fuck him, what Pete wants he gets.

"So, ya gonna explain to me what these guys are doing here? They're obviously not friends Bren."

Pete recognized a hint of a northern accent, Pete chalked it up to Chicago. Pete loves Chicago! Shit, can he just like, marry this adorable little man right here?

"Actually," Spencer cut in and Pete turned his attention back to the conversation at hand, "I've known Brendon for a very long while."

Patrick looked Spencer up and down before glancing back at Brendon for confirmation. Brendon nodded and Patrick looked back at the man, "okay, you're cool."

He turned back to Brendon, "that still doesn't explain why they're in our apartment?"

Pete cleared his throat and pushed back the tingling feeling in the tips of his fingers whenever Patrick glanced his way, "on a scale of one to ten...how good are you with a gun?"

The corner of Patrick's lips quirked up and he smiled slyly, "26."

Pete squinted his eyes at the challenge, "would you like to test that fact?"

_____________________________________________

Holy mother of Theresa.

 

Pete was dead on his feet looking at, not only Patrick's ass, but his fucking technique with the guns! 

Every single target that passed by, he hit like a fucking pro. Pete honestly felt like an amateur while watching him. Fuck, he's gotta have him on his team. Not to mention Brendon. He's equally skilled and both boys work together in tandem. Like Yin and Yang. It was actually pretty fascinating to watch. Pete was totally and utterly captivated by the fucking concentration and - Jesus fuck, he's pretty sure that Patrick is his soulmate by now.

"Why the fuck are you two strippers when you can get millions by being hitmen?"

Patrick scoffed, "because Peter, not everyone is as trustworthy as you. Me and Bren have been through hell and back, we're a team. Being a stripper is just more safe, ya know?"

Pete rolled his eyes, "from what I had to pick Ryan up from? No, I don't know."

Brendon raised his brows and intervened, "look, I'd love to help you guys. Shit, what you're offering even sounds fun. Not to mention the take! I just - it depends on Patrick, I mean, I'm all for it but if he's not in, then count me out."

Patrick glanced between Pete and Spencer, setting down the machine gun in his hands on the counter at the shooting range. He began to tap his fingers, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He heaved a breath and Pete's heart thumped at the sight of Patrick being disgruntled.

"I...I really can't deny that I miss this...being able to take down gangs and rob banks, shit like that is what really gets me going. But you can imagine that we quit for a reason, I just don't want to come back to what we've been running away from."

Pete pressed his lips together and nodded. Spencer sighed deeply, "we understand-"

"But, I guess you'll never know if you don't see for yourself. I'm in, but I need to be able to erase both of our identities at the end of this. I think you can understand that both me and Brendon don't need anybody else after us once this is over. I also happen to know that you have the chip to erase yourself from the database, that'll come in handy, don't ya think?"

Pete nodded, fishing his card out of his wallet, "there's an address on the back of that, meet me there tomorrow."

Pete turned and opened the door to the Ammunation, smirking to himself. A soft and melodic voice called out, "don't be so sure of yourself Wentz! We can call it quits anytime it gets too much."

Pete squinted at the door handle and nodded, "fair enough."

He exited through the door and heaved a sigh of relief at Spencer's heavy footfalls.

"You do realize we have to walk back to your car, right?"

Pete glared, "fuck off."

_____________________________________________

The drive back was...interesting to say the least. Mostly because Pete was sober - more sober than he was before, that's for sure - and sober Pete was wondering what slightly-tipsy-yet-still-buzzed Pete was even thinking.

"Why the fuck did we just do that?"

Spencer looked at him with a raised brow, "you okay?"

"I mean, seriously! I'm a fucking criminal overlord, I can get actual hit men - who don't sass me - within fucking minutes! Why do you let me do stupid things when I'm drunk?!"

Spencer rolled his eyes, "yeah, should've guessed, there's always something wrong with you."

Pete glared harder, "I could've gotten guys better than both of them for half the fucking price."

"Okay, first of all, no you couldn't have. Brendon and Patrick are the best of the best. Back in the day they were on the top of the Elite Five. Remember that? Plus, slightly drunk you is really easy to take advantage of but harder to control. Couldn't have stopped you if I tried."

Pete scoffed, "you're a dick."

Spencer smiled back, "that's just the sobriety talking. They're good assets to our team, face it. We'll meet them tomorrow and start setting shit up for these deranged assholes."

"I am so firing you after this."

"No, you're promoting me."

Pete growled and turned off the freeway, flying through red lights and drifting at turns. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Spencer discreetly grab onto the handle hanging from the roof. Pete smiled and pressed harder on the gas. He swerved onto the road leading to the penthouse, screeching to a stop at the sight that lay out before him.

"What the fuck...?"

Police lined the area, some even giving out orders to put road blocks anywhere within a five block range. Pete's heart thumped in his chest at the sight of the LSPD positioned in front of his building, waiting, staking out. Anger coursed through his veins and he grabbed his gun from the middle console, reaching over Spencer for the extra rounds. 

Spencer grabbed his arm roughly and glared, "don't be stupid Pete, we can't get passed this many cops."

Pete grunted and holstered his gun, "still gonna hold onto it."

Spencer rolled his eyes and threw open the passenger door, Pete following suit. In a sort of bad ass style way, they walked up to the head officer, earning glares from some other rookies.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Spencer glared at Pete but he ignored the warning, narrowing his eyes at the chief.

The chief - Officer Brooks, Pete hated him - grunted in response, "there's been a report of a shooting. No need to worry, this happens all the time."

Pete huffed in annoyance, "yeah, what floor is it coming from?"

The officer stared at him blankly, "that's restricted information I'm not allowed-"

Pete roughly grabbed the officer's collar and held him up to his face. A bunch of other policemen noticed and started taking out their weapons, pointing them at Pete. Spencer growled angrily and held out his hands.

"Listen here pig," he spit out the title like venom, "my fucking business runs on that God forsaken building so help me God if you don't tell me-"

"Pete-"

"-where the ever loving fuck that shooting is coming from-!"

"Pete!"

Pete held his tongue and glared at Spencer, "enough."

Officer Brooks trembled and managed to utter a small, "stand down."

When the LSPD didn't respond he cleared his throat, growling out. "Stand down!"

The police put away their guns, albeit reluctantly. Pete smirked and crossed his arms, Spencer rubbing his temples in annoyance.

The officer huffed, "seventeenth floor, we don't know what number yet but-"

Pete waved him off and turned to go, pausing and smiling at the officer sweetly, "Officer Brooks?"

Said officer bristled with the change in tone, "y-yes?"

Pete glared hard, sharp enough to cut diamonds, and bit out a timid, "don't you ever stand in my fucking way again."

He turned to go, hurrying along after Spencer. His partner only side glanced him and sighed heavily, "we could've been shot, you realize that right?"

"No, Officer Brooks and I have a mutual understanding after what happened last time."

Spencer sidestepped a few police officers and threw open Pete's garage, "didn't sound like much of a 'mutual understanding' to me."

Pete ducked under the garage door and turned on the light, hearing a low whistle from his friend at the sight of multiple sports cars and armored vehicles lining the garage, "eh, I hate him anyways. He's a suck up too, well, ever since I kidnapped his wife and forced him to oblige by my rules that is."

Spencer blanked as Pete reached the garage door, pushing in his key and turning the handle, "you what?"

"Don't be so shocked Spence, I'm a meme machine."

Spencer grabbed his shoulder and made Pete turn to face him, "you can call yourself anything you like, just please... never that."

Pete barked out a laugh and walked over to the stairs, noticing the power outage, "police cut the power, so elevators aren't working."

"You are not making me climb seventeen floors."

Pete smirked and held open the door to the stairway, "after you."

 

Spencer groaned, pulling out his gun and flicking on the flashlight extension. Pete sighed and did the same, trudging after him and up the stairs.

"I need to install one of those motor chairs that attach to railings, for days like these."

Spencer laughed breathily and Pete joined in, both pausing at the distinct sound of a shout. He immediately recognized the voice.

Pete started flying up the stairs, Spencer hot on his heels, "Frank!"

Blood lined the second floor stairs and Pete's heart jumped to his throat. 

He called out again, this time more urgent, "Gerard!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <:^O


End file.
